This Blog Is Now Blocked!

This blog is now blocked.

WORDPRESS has blocked my blog from the general public.

Now this blog is rated CENSORED, DEVIANT MATERIAL INSIDE.

Make no mistake about it- WORDPRESS IS A RELIGIOUS AND RESTRICTIVE INSTITUTION. ONLY CERTAIN APPROPRIATE THINGS CAN BE SAID HERE.

If you use the word MOTHERFUCKER in the title of a post you run the risk of being blocked.

Very said that a writing platform like WORDPRESS oppresses authentic expression and is so threatened by words like MOTHERFUCKER.

NO authentic/good writing can happen on a platform that will block and restrict your mode of expression if it feels like you are becoming inappropriate.

This is why WORDPRESS had become a main perpetuator of crapy writing in the world. WORDPRESS supports CENSORING writer’s voices if that writer’s voice expresses sentiments that are not in alignment with what they believe is right.

I will no longer have anything to do with WORDPRESS obviously. How could I? How could any real writing ever happen here?

WORDPRESS is like the TARGET for writing. It sells cheaply made products, for lower prices, that look kind of like the real thing but are far from it.

I am grateful to WORDPRESS for giving me a platform to write on. I am grateful that I was able to slide by under THE WORDPRESS BIG BROTHER CENSORING APPARATUS for as long as I did. It was my way of saying FUCK THE MAN while I still could.

WORDPRESS is now telling me I have said ENOUGH on their public platform. Ok.

I have been caught by the religious institution known as WORDPRESS, probably turned in by some religious WORDPRESSIAN disciple who can not handle a few bad words in their daily on-line reading.

There are a lot of very controlling and fascistic people out there who operate under the title of PEOPLE OF FAITH. Sad that a platform like WORDPRESS has lost the courage to stand out from the masses and has instead become an INSTITUTION FOR PEOPLE OF FAITH.

-Randall

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Why The American Dream Has Killed My Writing Career.

When my wife asks me how I am and I tell her that I am depressed, she no longer asks why.

I know that all emotions and thoughts are inherently empty and impermanent so I try not to get too caught up in any of it. Sometimes, I just let myself be depressed.

I know that my entire identity is just a phantom passing in the day and night. I try not to identify with much of it.

But still I feel. Still I think. I am human.

My dream has always been to be able to make a living as a writer. A fiction writer. I did not expect this to happen until, and if, I made it to fifty.

Now at forty five I can’t really write. The American Dream has killed my writing career.

My younger self knew this would happen if I gave in. There is no one else to blame but myself.

Depression makes it hard to write. Depression is often the end result of the American Dream.

I have a house now. I must keep my house clean because I can not function adequately in a house that is a mess. Cleaning my house every day takes away from time that I can write. Being stressed out about a house that is a mess takes away from the energy I need to write.

I must work a real job in order to afford my lifestyle. A real job drains a person and does not leave them with much energy outside of work to do anything else.

I own a business, which requires much of my attention, which leaves less attention for my writing. A man can only spend so many hours working. Whether it is my real job or writing, it is all still work. I need a good amount of non-work-down-time in order to feel alright. Down time plus working a real job does not leave much space within which to write. I see now why Kafka continually decided against marriage and the domestic life.

I am married and a marriage often comes with a good amount of emotional drain. There are problems to attend to. Another person in your daily life mix. This takes up time and energy, which was once used to write.

I have a garden, a front yard and these organic entities need my daily watering attention. This takes away time to write.

I have four dogs which are continually needy. I can’t stand to see dog shit just hanging out in my yard, so I must pick this up each day since my wife refuses to. Having four, needy animals around all the time takes away from the tranquility which is often needed to write in. Dogs take up a lot of psychic space.

Then there is the daily meditation that I must do each day to deal with the anger, anxiety, stress and depression, which seems to be a daily part of American Dream life. Meditation makes me feel more at peace and when I am more at peace I have little use for writing stories. I would rather just sit in my garden and watch birds fly by.

As a business owner I have emails to check. People that want things from me. Appointments to make. People to stay in touch with. Bills to pay. Other people’s problems to think about. All of this will drain a person’s creative inner life away. All of this leaves me feeling too preoccupied with the real world to think about fictional other worlds. I am too caught up in this world and rather than write I just engage my iPhone.

Being overly connected is the death of a creative life. A creative person needs to spend a certain amount of time each day disconnected our else their creative energy will be sapped. Great artists and writers, I doubt, check their social media, text messages and emails fifty plus times a day. I do.

Then I need to do dishes, make food, buy food, be pissed about not eating the right food. This food thing takes up a lot of time that could be spent writing.

Then I need to buy things to feel better about not having the writing career I want. Does not seem to work.

Then there is everything else- bills, cleaning car, tending to cars, laundry, exercise and on and on.

This is the standard lifestyle, which is a result of achieving the American Dream. It generally leaves a person overwhelmed, addicted to zoning out on their iPhone and looking forward to that drink they can have when the day is done, so they can get some temporary relief.

This is a pathetic way to go through life. It is completely missing the point in being alive. It is a lifestyle based in comfort and security and it leaves a person feeling trapped, stuck and overly entertained. Nothing good grows out from this place. Especially not a writing career.

I know there is a lot more I could say here, but I do not have time. I must go to work now.

The End.

These Motherfucking Machines

These motherfucking machines. I am not happy about them one bit. Now, I use my iPhone just as much as anyone. I check my emails and text messages too much. I look on-line when I don’t want to do anything else (which is most of the time). I, like you, have given in to these motherfucking machines.

But I don’t like it.

I think they are bad, real bad for any depth or interestingness our personalities could have once had. I think they are ruining our ability to connect with others in meaningful ways. I think these motherfucking machines are turning us all into even more superficial and unsatisfied monkeys than we were before.

I wish I could fully give in. I wish I could love these motherfucking machines. I really try. But as a result of trying my attention span has been hacked into tiny little pieces. My creative output has dwindled. My sexual relationship with my wife has gone flat. My interest in engaging with others in person is gone. My capacity for handling solitude has been shot. My shopping addiction has gone through the fucking roof. My ability to be engaged while reading a book has disappeared. I love reading books and I can’t even do that anymore because of these mother fucking machines.

What a person does while they are alone determines the amount of depth that they have when with other people. If when a person is alone they are continually checking their phones, what kind of person are they going to be when around other human beings? Frightening thought, but let me tell you. They are going to be boring! There is going to be the absence of any legitimate substance.

Sorry, I wish there was some way around this.

I try and ignore it with my wife. I love her (a bunch) and I want everything to be fine but my wife checks her iPhone all the time. She is always on the fucking thing. She works on the thing. Socializes on the thing. Makes art on the thing. Entertains herself on the thing.  Talks to me and then is right back on the thing. Watches something on TV and is right back on the thing. Takes a shower and is right back on the thing. It is constant but I try to just accept it. It is the way the world is going so you better get in line Randall. But sometimes I pop. Sometimes I lose my shit and say things like:

Is this what we want to become? This couple who is always on their phones? Really? Is this what we want to turn ourselves into? Bored when it is just you and I unless we have a phone to check? Always pulled by this desire or compulsion to check our phones. To refer to our phones for every bit of info we need or interest we have? Is this what we really want to do with our valuable time? I mean we don’t even fuck much anymore. Shouldn’t we be more focused on that than always caught up in digital worlds inside our phones? You have so much potential. So do I but do we really want to be giving it all away just so we can be more in touch with other people? Just so we can check what pic is newest and latest on-line? We are becoming people without depth. You think Father John Misty could check his phone a hundred times a day and do the kind of work he does? Why are we letting oyrselves become like this? I am sick of it. It pisses me off. I know I am just as bad but really you are worse. You are fucking addicted. You need help. I need help. It is going to ruin our entire lives. These fucking machines are turning us into superficial idiots glued to a screen. I just don’t like it no matter how hard I try.

And then I feel bad, even though I meant everything I said. I try and go back to just accepting these motherfucking machines in to my life. I tell myself this is just the way things are now. So I can’t really read a book anymore? Who cares. At least I am in touch and on-line. These motherfucking machines fill the space created by my loneliness, emptiness and laziness but what bothers me is that before these motherfucing machines that space was filled with books, films, creativity, music, solitude, long afternoons wondering around with my head in the clouds and other people. Now its just a continual digital screen.

Again and again.

 

Does Anyone Else Give A Shit?

This is bullshit.

I know we all want to keep our heads buried in the sand but the United States of America just dropped the largest bomb, next to a Nuclear bomb, on another sovereign country. What the hell? As if things were already not bad enough.

Maybe I am naïve but I believe if we just put on our wisdom caps, stepped back and left other people alone, they would leave us alone as well. No one wants to die, not even those we in the terrified West have been conditioned to see as bad guys.

Just like how I am now the bigger person and no longer start fights when my father tries to poke at me, things between us have mellowed out. If the United States could just be the bigger person, things would improve! But no, we have these angry, defensive and non-self actualized higher ups making all the moves.

Militants who attack people in the West use trucks, homemade bombs, powerful guns and other desperate inventions that can bring about their boiling desire for revenge. Militants who attack people in the Middle East use massive, high tech bombs and the wealthiest military in the world. Who is bullying who here?

Now I don’t know about you, but as a member of the general public, I am concerned. You see, when the United States of America does something like drop a massive bomb on another sovereign country, there is going to be repercussions in the West. It is a given. But those who make the decision to drop the bombs don’t care. Higher up officials are not nearly as vulnerable to attacks from militants because they do not shop in middle-class shopping malls. It is all of us who are greatly at risk.

You, me and everyone you know and love. All your friends on Facebook. Thanks American Military and the American Government. Thanks a lot. Way to be wise.

Now, because of decisions made by higher ups, we have all been made much more vulnerable to being harmed by those who are pissed off by America’s recent actions. To officials who are higher up, no matter what they say, we are all collateral damage for their agendas. The fact that those who make these decisions are higher up, implies that they are removed from all of us lower downs. This creates a separation that is necessary for the higher ups to make the kind of decisions they do. If they were also shopping in the mall down the street, they might not make the decisions they do.

So we have been put in harms way by them. Again.

I like my life. I like all the others around me to enjoy their lives. Life is a very precious resource. The moment it is lost, it is extinct. This is why I think those who make decisions that put other people’s lives in harms way are jerks, no matter how much justice and righteous they think they have on their side. Every militant, on any side, is fueled by the same sense of justice and righteousness. This is what makes them a militant!

And make no mistake about it, those who drop expensive bombs on sovereign countries, are militants, no matter how much they look like you.

I am fueled by wanting all people to just enjoy living their lives and this is what makes me not a militant.

Donald Trump and the American Military just made all of us lower down people, much more unsafe. We are all much more at risk now than last week. Actions speak louder than words. Donald Trump and the American Military may say they care about you and your family but if they did they would be the bigger person and stop dropping bombs. Just like with my father, I care about his health and mine so I have pulled back. In the end this is the only way to end conflict.

Everything else is just unevolved, hurt, defensive, egotistical, childish bullshit.

Making It As A Writer And/Or Artist

The first trick is to not let the depression of not making it kill you. Everything else is easy in comparison.

I have no idea how to make it as a writer and/or artist. I have been trying for over two decades and am only a bit closer than I was ten years ago. I have tons of unfinished novels and graphic novels and short stories just sitting there waiting to be edited and sent out into the world. But for whatever reason, I have not been able to finish any of it.

I write these blog entries (or what I like to tell myself are essays) because it is an easy way to create something and be done with it. But at the end of the day self-publishing these blog entries (essays) amounts to nothing. I am no closer to reaching my goal of making it as an writer and artist than I was decades ago. If anything, blogging just slows that process down.

So who am I to write about making it as a writer and/or artist? Nobody. I have no idea how to do it. For me, it is like trying to solve a crossword puzzle that is in a language I do not speak. I just can’t seem to figure it out.

But if I do know something about something, what I know something about is the process involved in making it as a writer and/or artist. I know this part of the work very well because I have been stuck in the process for the past twenty plus years.

The one and most important thing that I want to say about the process involved in maybe one day making it as a writer and/or artist is that it is a real son of a bitch. It will never leave you alone. It is like an itch that you can’t scratch. You will always feel like you should be working on something. That is ok though. As annoying as it is, when that goes away, you are done.

As long as you still have this unscratchable itch to write and/or make art, to be somebody as an artist and/or writer, the hardest part is keeping that itch alive. To keep the itch alive you must be fully committed to it. You may become a doctor, a business manager, a real estate agent, a psychotherapist, a waiter, a police officer, a teacher and on and on. After all, we all have bills to pay if we want a decent life along the way. But you must see these jobs as just a way to buy time. You are never able to fully commit to any profession other than that of being an artist and/or writer. Whatever you do for money or whatever schooling program you may be in, if you want to ever make it as a writer and/or artist, you have to always see these things as just a way to buy time.

Everything the writer and/or artist does prior to making it as a writer and/or artist is just buying time. You are just fooling people just enough so they will pay you to do something but your heart is never really fully in it. The moment your heart is fully in doing whatever it is you do to make money, you are finished in your process of ever really making it a writer and/or artist.

This is the hard part. Hard because most will never, ever make it as a writer and/or artist. You will just be buying time for your entire life. Some, the few, will make it and even if they are in their sixties when they do, it will feel great. But most will never make it. I am probably one of them who never will. But by just living a life where you are buying time so that you will not be fully suffocated by economic demands and end up giving up on your dream of one day making it as a writer and/or artist, I think is worth something in the end. In the end, what will matter most is that you stayed true to yourself. That you continued to try. That you stuck with it. And even though a lot of depression will come along with your lack of success and the hardship involved in continually trying but not getting anywhere, the depression and despair will ultimately (if you are lucky) be the fuel that keeps you true to your vision.

This is how I guess one makes it as a writer and/or artist. You must remain true to your vision. You must buy time and be prepared to lose everything. You must find ways to cope with the depression so it does not end up killing you (and your vision) too soon. And if you keep at it, if you keep slaving away and are lucky to live long enough, maybe you might just make it as an writer and/or artist someday. Maybe not. But that is not what will matter in the end, I suspect.

Buy time.

Phone Call From Myself

I arrived early at my miserable office when my iPhone rang. Who the hell could be calling me this early? This is what I thought. I was in a bad mood. I am always in a bad mood early in the morning, especially before work. Normally I do not like it when people call me. I feel like they are invading my private space. I am offended. But when someone calls me in the morning my offense is drastically multiplied.

Rather than just ignoring the ringing iPhone (which, in retrospect would have been the right thing to do but everything is the right thing to do in retrospect) I pulled it from my cluttered pocket and checked. It took me several seconds to make sense of what I saw. 510-604-6201. That is my phone number right? Isn’t 510-604-6201 my phone number? How the hell could this be? How could I be calling myself? This doesn’t make sense. I exist in a state of complete confusion but in that moment, my confusion turned into complete perplexion.

I answered the call (which, I never do by the way).

“Hello?” I said it very apprehensively.

“Randall?”

“Yes…….” I said this very apprehensively as well.

“Randall. This is Randall. I need to talk with you about something.”

“Excuse me?” It sounded like me. It was my same old slow and miserable voice coming through the phone but I could not make sense of what was actually happening.

“I know this might seem a bit odd to you, but please do not be alarmed. This is yourself, Randall. I am calling you.”

“You are me calling me?”

“Yes, this is you. Or it is me but I am you and I just needed to speak with you for a moment.”

“Ok. This is very strange. How could I be calling myself? I am right here now, so where are you?” I said this even more apprehensively than I said everything before.

“Look, let’s skip all the practicalities. They don’t matter. Please stop trying to figure things out. I am you Randall, this is Randall calling Randall and I just need to speak with you about a few things before you begin work. Is this ok?”

The voice on the iPhone was me. There was no question about this. I could even hear how the voice, or I, annunciated slow and mumbled vowels, which is exactly what I do. In a state of complete perplexion and disarray, I decided to give in and stop questioning.

“Ok. What is it?” I said this apprehensively.

“Well, look man, I know you have your first client coming in shortly and have a long day filled with clients in front of you. I know that you have been struggling the past couple of weeks and I just wanted to reach out to you.”

“Reach out to me about what?”

“I just wanted to let you know that things are going to be ok. You don’t need to stress out so much about everything. I know you have been having a difficult time not stressing out about every little thing. You are unhappy in your mind. Almost every little thought triggers a negative stress response in your body. I know you are overwhelmed by your work. I know that it is very draining for you and takes up too much space in your mental apparatus………

(This is when I was certain it was me talking to me on the phone because only I would say something like mental apparatus in the middle of a banal, self-help sentence.)

……but you have got to stop stressing over so many things.”

“How do you suggest I do this Randall?” Now I was starting to play with myself.

“Well as long as your question is genuine and you are not playing with me, I will tell you. I know that your job is tormenting. It fills you with exhaustion and negativity. I get it. But welcome to the real world man. You are not a kid, where everything must feel good all the time or else you are pissed. You are an adult now. Also, you must keep in mind that this will not last forever. You will get out of this at some point. Now you feel stuck and obligated. I understand. But please trust me that there is light at the end of the tunnel and it is not the light coming from an oncoming train as you often think.”

“OK, I appreciate all of this Randall, but what is your point?” Now I was feeling frustrated. I don’t like it when people tell me what to do, especially myself and especially in the early morning. I was on the edge of telling myself to go to hell but I refrained.

I needed more coffee.

“I just wanted to tell you to go easy man. I know you are unhappy. Your work week is almost over. Just try to keep it together and don’t fall apart. Do some meditation. Take time to listen to music. Stop feeling like you need to write and spending your precious free time writing and posting things on your blog that don’t get you anywhere. Just knock that off. Don’t worry about writing your novel or being creative. This is just your ego driving you nuts. You just need to relax. You need to do things that you enjoy during your free time. And you and I both know that writing is hard work for you. It is not necessarily something you enjoy.”

“Ok.” I was ready to get off the phone. Myself was pissing me off.

“Look, there are alternative ways of organizing experience and interpreting information. Drugs are often one way. Meditation is another way. Beer is one impermanent way. Just staying present and not identifying with your ego is a long term way. I just think that it is important for your mental health that you seek out healthier, alternative ways, daily, or else you are going to be a miserable man.”

“I am a miserable man fucker! Why are you telling me all of this right now? I have eight clients to day. I have to sit and attentively listen to eight people talk about their problems for an hour each. You try that out sometimes. You try and find alternative ways of interpreting information when all your mental energy is being drained right out of you only because you have to make money. I really don’t need this alternative bullshit right now. Just leave me alone. Let me get through my day however I need to. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but stop telling me how you think I should live my life!” I was pissed, probably much more than I needed to be, and hoped that my client who was waiting for me in the waiting room could not hear any of this.

“Look I am sorry man. I just thought I would give you a call and try and help you out.”

“Well, thanks Randall. I appreciate your generous act of goodwill but you can shove it up your ass. I am tired of you telling me what to do. Always telling me what you think I should do while you get to just hang out in my ego all day long. And now you call me on the phone to tell me? Fuck this. I have had enough. I am hanging up now. Good bye Randall.”

“But…..”

I turned my iPhone off, put it back in my cluttered pocket and took a deep breath. I think I said the word fuck a few more times and tried not to think about the long day in front of me. Then I pulled up my zipper (which, I just noticed was down), forced a smile upon my permanently frowning face and went to get my first client.

MARIJUANA: Insights From Yesterday’s Use.

I can’t do it often. My life wouldn’t work if I did. I don’t mean this in the way that you might think I mean it. You probably think I mean that I would become lazy, disengaged and less productive if I used marijuana often and this is why my life would not work. Nope. The opposite is actually true. Let me explain.

First of all, this cliché idea that marijuana makes a person lazy or disengaged or uninspired or less productive is true. But these marijuana users are amateurs. Still in their idiot stage of marijuana use. For people who are not amateurs, marijuana is an incredibly powerful and potent drug.

Marijuana opens and expands the mind. If what is already in that mind is superficial and dumb, the person will have a superficial and dumb experience.But if that mind has more depth, intelligence and creativity in it, then the experience can be immensely useful.

You see, marijuana takes a person beyond their normally imposed limitations. It allows a person to really look at themselves from a distance and see things in a “wide open” and clear way. The result is normally more creativity, personal insights and understanding.

Alcohol on the other hand numbs the mind. Alcohol creates zeropersonal insights. Alcohol allows a person to forget themselves. It turns the volume in the brain way down so a person can feel more relaxed and less tormented by fear and general negative thoughts. Alcohol normally turns fear off and the result is a good, carefree time where a person is no longer confined by their more sober limitations. Alcohol does not expand the mind, it dulls it. This is why many people use alcohol to treat their worried, unhappy, judgemental and stressed out minds.

I deal with a good amount of anxiety and depression, which I normally treat with mindfulness meditation (and a few beers or glasses of wine). Using marijuana yesterday gave me a better understanding of why I get depressed and anxious and why I need to use mindfulness more, to treat it.

You see we all live within a particular kind of social construct. Like fish in a fish tank we live in a particular socially conditioned system. In America, this system tends to be economic (and religious) based. In America right now, economics (or Capitalism) is the main religion. This creates a particular construct (identity) that we all exist within. But this identity (who we think we are) is mostly conditioned in to us. It is not really our own making. Everyone experiences this American identity in very similar ways (worry about money, worry about the future, worry about all the things that need to get done, preoccupation about what we are going to buy or where we are going to dinner or on vacation and on and on). It is this socially conditioned identity that is the cause of so much of what makes us unhappy.

Why? Well, it may not be so easy to explain and you can read Freud, Nietzsche, E.M. Cioran, Shunryu Suzuki, Jon Kabat-Zinn, Benjamin Fondane, Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski and others for more insights. But let me try.

This identity, our shared economic-based-identities, is created by the social construct that we live within. It is informed by consumerism, capitalism, media and many other things. Literally, a big part of our identity was shaped and designed to some degree by people sitting in an advertising office someplace. And we identify so strongly with our identities (our egos) that it ends up causing us much emotional and psychological pain.

The reason for most of the depression, anxiety and general unhappiness that we experience is that this is what the limitations and economic based social construct that we live within creates in us. Unhappiness, unfulfillment, depression and anxiety are what happens when we live within social conditioning and the American social construct. It is the nature of the system we live in. There is no way to feel happy or fulfilled when living in this American social construct (no matter how many Tony Robbins conferences you go to) because the nature of the system creates unhappiness. It needs to in order to sustain itself. To keep us doing, working, buying, pursuing.

It is like if a fish wanted to be healthy, longed for health and well-being but lived in a dirty fish tank. The fish would never be able to find genuine health and well-being not matter how hard they tried. They would continually be pursuing it but never find it because it is not to be found in the dirty fish tank. The fish must find a way to get to a cleaner tank (good luck).

The only way to really experience authentic happiness, fulfillment, well-being and creativity is by getting out of the American social construct. By transcending or going beyond the identity limitations imposed upon us by social conditioning. This can only happen if we are able to go beyond our identities and reach a place where we are outside of identity. This outside is more of a present moment, fully aware and creative space. It is a non-ego space where the person is completely free and beyond ordinary daily concerns (like: the to do list, needing to call clients back, work issues, preoccupations with what other people are doing wrong, various economic preoccupations, future plans preoccupations and on and on). All of these things are a result of the socially conditioned identity we share in common. It is a result of the social construct that we live in and true fulfillment, creativity and happiness can never be found in there.

I presume that the insights I had while using marijuana yesterday are similar to the teachings of Buddhism. Buddhism is based in the practice of being fully present, fully aware and not as attached to our individual egos. The Second Noble Truth in Buddhsim states that attachment is the cause of suffering. We can never be authentically fulfilled and happy if we are attached to anything that comes from our identity. Depression, anxiety, anger, unhappiness are all a result of identifying to strongly with the socially conditioned identity (ego). Don’t take my word or Buddhism’s word for it, just look at what is causing you to suffer and see for yourself.

The reason why my life would not work if I actually used marijuana legally and regularly is because I would not be able to buy into the social conditioning that every one else around me is buying into. I would see the normal things that I need to be concerned with and take care of in order to maintain a life in society, as barriers to my fulfillment, creativity and happiness. As a result, I would try not to engage with these things. My business would decline, I could lose my home and end up struggling a lot more economically. In order to sustain a comfortable and legitimate life within the American social construct a person needs to be very careful about expanding their minds too much. It could make life in the fish tank much harder for them. This is why most of us keep drinking booze. Keeps our minds closed down and a bit less stressed out.

Alcohol is the drug of choice in the American social construct (you probably drank just last night). Alcohol allows a person to cope with (rather than eradictate) the anxieties, stresses, discontent and worry that are a normal condition of the American social construct.

The limitations to a person’s personal freedom and well-being that are imposed on all of us in this American social construct creates a sense or feeling of unease. Alcohol helps take this feeling temporarily away and enables us to continue on in our confinement. Marijuana makes it very hard for a person to just carry on in their confinement. Marijuana makes a person want to break out and run free.

Can’t do that again for a while. But my depression and anxiety have mainly been the result of not feeling like I can fully be myself while living in this American social construct. I am a rather strange person who thinks and acts in unusual and highly creative ways. I need to keep this under control and act in more professional ways if I want to “fit in.” The result of squashing or not engaging my creativity is always depression and anxiety. I really struggle to stay inspired and creative because depression tends to take all of that energy away. Living within social conditioning and social limitations makes it very hard for a person to stay authentically creative, especially as they grow older. I was very happy that while using marijuana I made two paintings and wrote a few short stories. I have not been able to paint in over a year.

Through mindfulness meditation I am trying to do what marijuana brought about in me. To live more fully in the present moment, to not be as identified with my ego or identity. To shed all of my social fears and worries and preoccupations. To just be free and present with my life from moment to moment. When I am able to do this I do notice that I become happier and more creative. But it is tough because normal life within the social construct causes me to get so caught up in my identity that my identity literally starts to strangle me.

Using marijuana yesterday gave me more insight into what it is I am actually doing and need to keep doing when practicing mindfulness meditation. I am very grateful for this.

I have now seen what happens when I get too caught up in my socialized, fear based identity. We I am too steeped in my conditioned ego I lose touch with the health, creativity, fulfillment and well-being, which can only be found when my mind is open, aware and living more fully in a present moment based reality. So much creativity and fulfillment can be found here.

I bet advertisers and corporations and goverments and other economically interested agencies will not like this.